


Fighting Words Doctrine

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Series: Voir Dire [3]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Lawyers, M/M, Silly Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Fighting words’: <i>something said purposefully to incite a reaction, or to cause an immediate breach of the peace</i>.  Jensen’s never been good with legalese.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting Words Doctrine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for one_2_3_4's prompt of "Lawyer!Jared: red, koosh ball, deposition."

"Hey, Jared. I've got this work thing coming up and I thought -"

No, that sounds too casual.

"I know how much you love good barbecue, so this weekend -"

Actually, it's better if Jensen doesn't mention food, since Jared can get a little _distracted_.

“It won’t be that bad, Jared. Just a few hours -“

Right. Why doesn’t he make it sound _less_ appealing?

Jensen scowls at his reflection and the voice in his head calls him out for being a pussy - practicing in the mirror before he asks Jared a simple question. Really, he _is_ a grown-up. Most of the time he even acts like one.

He hears Jared out in the living room, finishing up some last minute work to the tune of frantic keyboard tapping. A few minutes later there's a triumphant shout of "done!" Jensen abandons his unhelpful reflection and walks into the bedroom as Jared is coming in and closing the door.

"All finished?"

Jared grins and stretches his back; he's been hunched over his laptop since dinner finished.

"Yup." 

His back pops and Jensen tries to hide his wince. Maybe he ought to think about seeing Jared in a _professional_ capacity in addition to what they’re doing now - this uncategorized non-dating _thing_. 

"The D.A.'s office was trying to bury me under a mountain of useless depositions from anyone and _everyone_ who ever knew Pierce, but it's not gonna work."

Most of the legalese goes right over Jensen's head. Besides, his _other_ head is more interested in Jared's arched spine. He's only wearing a white undershirt and navy boxer briefs. Comfy looking, but it’s doing crazy things to Jensen, and has since Jared came over tonight. As gorgeous as Jared looks in courtroom attire - slick suits and colorful ties - when he shows up all Jensen wants to do is rip the expensive materials off. Jared usually prevents any man-on-suit violence, and tonight he stripped down to basics on his own.

"Jensen?"

Hot ass attorney talking - _focus_!

"Sorry, what?"

"Are we going to bed or are you planning to objectify me some more?”

Either plan sounds pretty damn good, actually. For a second, Jensen thinks it's crazy that Jared knows the meaning of his various 'stares' after a month. Jensen's barely halfway through cataloging Jared's smiles. Like right now? He's pretty sure Jared's smirk says, ' _please pick the bed, I've got_ plans _for you._ ' But it might be, _'stop being so creepy, Jensen_.'

"Bed," Jensen yawns.

He sheds the Wash U. School of Medicine t-shirt he's had for years, wearing it down to a soft, tissue weight, and stretches out on his half of the bed. His _sliver_ when sleeping-Jared gets really obnoxious. Jared sits at the end, pulling off his shirt and tossing it towards the open closet.

"'S not where that goes."

They haven't made it to the point where mixed laundry is totally okay, or my-space-is-your-space applies, except when it comes to the bed itself.

"Aw, you're adorable when you're being anal," Jared scolds without heat. His eyes linger on Jensen's bare chest. "And kind of fuckable, too."

When Jensen only raises his eyebrow, Jared gets up and pads to the closet, reaching down and in for his waywardly tossed shirt. Jensen's too busy _objectifying_ Jared's perfect ass and all the positions he'd like to see it in, when he realizes Jared is still hunched over, focused on something out of Jensen’s sight.

"What are you -"

He's cut off by a laugh that's more surprise than humor. And really, whatever Jared's found in the closet that's making him bust a rib, it can't be _that_ funny. Unless...

"Shit, Jensen!"

Oh _fuck_.

"Is this your _naughty_ box?"

Jared lifts the nondescript old shoebox - sans lid - so Jensen can see it.

"Fuck you, put it back."

But Jensen knows that's not going to fly. He shuts his eyes, mortified, and listens to Jared pulling out everything while he keeps a running commentary.

"Didn't they stop printing this magazine after 1996?"

"What the hell are _these_?"

"God, this reminds me of one time, back in college..."

"Holy shit, Jensen. This _fits_?"

Then Jared laughs again; the son of a bitch _guffaws_ while Jensen tries not to explode from embarrassment.

"Are you... _seriously_ , Jensen?"

Jared holds up his latest find and Jensen really wants to die.

"A fucking koosh ball?"

"That's not -" Jensen stammers, because it's _not_ , honestly, but Jared won't stop laughing.

"We should definitely try it out tonight," Jared manages to say between fits, brandishing the wriggling mass like a trophy.

"It's not a sex toy!" And yeah, that comes out louder and more defensive than Jensen intends.

"It was in the box."

"My cat probably left it in there."

The spongy, soft-prickled ball lands on his chest, followed just after by Jared's warm body.

"No lying," Jared leans forward, pitched-dirty whispers in Jensen's ear and he nearly forgets about the squishy toy mashed between them. "I can always tell, remember?"

But Jared pulls away before Jensen can latch on, and he rolls the koosh up Jensen's torso.

Jensen's plan is 'more sex, fewer toys', so he picks up the ball and chucks it across the bedroom, a satisfying thump where it hits drywall and drops. Jared pouts but Jensen grips his forearms and flips them. He's usually happy to play Jane to Jared's _me-want-now_ Tarzan, but he's feeling a little more like _me-Jen_ , you _shut-up-and-take-it_ right now. Jared bends, strains against Jensen's hold, and the look on his face says he doesn't particularly mind the switch.

_Point to Jensen._

Kissing Jared is pretty addictive, Jensen has figured out, so he goes with that. There's a little grappling for good measure. He locks his knees around Jared's sides and smiles against Jared's lips, a clear communication of _try all you want_ in his actions. Jared sucks on his tongue, sensation shooting straight down to Jensen's very interested dick. It's hot and wet and oh-so- _godrightthere_.

It blows Jensen's mind that every time he has sex with Jared, it kind of, well, _blows his mind_. Hell, it's only been a couple of hours since Jared came over and ignored the meticulously prepared salmon-over-risotto in favor of Jensen-over-the-table (at least until the sex was finished). And all Jensen wants now is the same achingly full feeling of Jared inside him. On his terms, this time. 

The urge to manhandle Jared gets the better of Jensen; he drops rough kisses and long, twisting licks across Jared’s upper torso while he holds the other man down, arms pinned and straining.

“I like bedtime,” Jared moans while Jensen’s nibbling at the delicious skin of Jared’s throat. “’S my new favorite time of the day.”

“I like waking up,” Jensen licks over his Adam’s apple, feels it move over a gulp of air. “I like breakfast, and lunch breaks in your car.” He could list a dozen other times of day, but there’s a beautiful man stretched out beneath him, and who could focus on anything else?

He’s no stranger to the human body - he has his hands on _someone_ almost all the time to make a living. But he’s discovered that Jared is something else. He’s never waxed _whatever_ over any of his one night stands, but Jared’s not one of those either. Collarbones he just wants to bite over. No shortage of muscle to grip or hang onto for dear _fucking_ life. Abdominal grooves he could just lick around and hipbones Jensen wants to rut over until he - _fuck_.

That’s not helping.

“Jensen,” the man under him breathes out. He hears the moan and his brain short-circuits straight to need. Now.

“So damn impatient when you’re not getting your way.”

Jared laughs low and throaty, always one to tease. “I can wait - can take you up there _all_ night.”

The hips bucking up against Jensen’s ass say otherwise, but Jensen still growls and yanks their boxers off, fumbling for and grabbing the lube from the nightstand. He’s already been worked open once tonight, from the rough-and-tumble over the table a few hours ago. Wrapping a slicked hand around Jared’s dick, hard and so-near perfect, Jensen doesn’t waste any time before he’s sinking down more rapidly than he’s used to. The quick burn and stretch has him gasping and Jared’s freed hands fly to Jensen’s hips.

“Christ!” It comes out more like a cry. “Easy, Jensen.”

“Not a chance.” Jared’s so _fucking deep_ in him and Jensen never wants that feeling to go away.

But that’s too heavy of a thought when they’re like this. Willing his mind to go blank, Jensen concentrates on the up-down, slick slide of flesh and leans down to swallow every moan and choked-off curse Jared can’t hold back. 

Finally, thanks to a few twists of Jensen’s hips and some dirty words, Jared stops trying to temper the ride and drives himself up into Jensen’s body. Jared’s arms move around Jensen’s waist like a vice, pulling him down. While they’re pressed together, Jensen feels Jared’s lips and tongue on his face wherever it can reach. Lips, cheeks, chin. Jensen’s ear when he turns to catch his breath, because Jared’s relentless now.

He gets pushed back and Jensen goes willingly, especially when Jared wraps a hand around his cock and brings him off, all while his brutal rhythm never falters.

“Holy sh-“ Jensen chokes on his shout when he comes, nearly falling forward onto Jared’s chest. He can only hang on to Jared’s shoulder, biting down to muffle incoherent sounds when Jared thrusts up and comes a moment later.

He rides the rise and fall of Jared’s heavy breathing until it slows. Turning his cheek, Jensen sees how Jared’s neck and collar are ringed red with teeth marks and subcutaneous blossoms of blood. Fortunately Jared can’t see his smug smile at seeing him so marked. Jensen doesn’t particularly want to move, and says as much when Jared shifts and tries to slide him off.

“Kind of heavy, Jensen.”

“Mmfghdhrr.”

Jensen shakes when Jared chuckles. “Didn’t catch that.”

“I’m good here.”

“Of course you are,” he chides but doesn’t move more than pulling out of Jensen and wrapping long arms around him. It’s a good thing Jared’s way more agreeable in his post-sex haze or else - _oh_.

Jensen’s an idiot.

He rolls off on his own, and looks at Jared. The other man’s eyes are closed, like he’s drifting on the residual highs of what they just finished, and the silence lets Jensen think. The last month has been a series of now-or-never moments that Jensen’s let pass.

“So my whole practice is having a big party next weekend.” Jensen stops. Now or never.

“Hmm?”

“As my boyfriend, you have to go with me so I’m not bored out of my skull.”

Jared’s quiet and Jensen gets a little dizzy; he tried so hard to sound casual. It’s on the tip of his tongue to insist that the party is no big deal, just some silly work-

“Are you sure you want me to go?”

Of all the things Jared could have said, this surprises Jensen.

“I’m asking _you_ , aren’t I?”

Jared edges onto Jensen’s side of the bed, not so obnoxious when they’re awake, and there’s an endearingly shy smile on his face - reminding Jensen of the first day they met - even though his eyes are bright and focused.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”

“We could go as friends,” Jensen jokingly offers.

“Really?” It’s almost disbelieving.

“Yeah, but only my _boyfriend_ is going to get a blowjob in the bathroom while we’re there.”

Jared laughs, tucking his face into a pillow, probably to hide his reddened cheeks. And Jensen doesn’t let him see his sigh of relief.

“Just name the time.”

 

FIN.


End file.
